Crashlanding
by general zargon
Summary: Aceepting jobs while drunk is never a good idea, and crashlanding on a strange planet with an assassin after your life can ruin even your best day. These are two things that Dancer Hauk is about to find out the hard way. Rated M for language and description of violence. Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

Okay, so maybe flying escort to a smuggler known for leaving his '_co-workers_' holding the bag hadn't been the smartest idea, but in his own defense, the money offered for the job had been too good to pass up. Of course, accepting the job while falling-down drunk and not thinking clearly _might _not have been the best decision he'd ever made, either…The sad thing was, it also wasn't the worst one.

Dancer Hauk, who would forever curse his parents for giving him that name, decided it would be best not to mention that part to his older brother Fain if he managed to get out of his current situation alive, mostly because Fain would probably kill him himself if he did.

Things had been going fine, aside from him having a slight headache from the three bottles of Grenna alcohol he'd drunk the night before, and he'd met up with the guy who'd hired him in the landing bay, a quick refuel on his fighter later and they were on their way. Maybe he should have been more suspicious that things had been going too smoothly and questioned why his 'employer' – a Partini by the name of Jorvi Lyshon – had seemed so eager to leave the morning after hiring him, or even just spared a passing thought to how the Partini was planning on _paying_ him the amount of money offered.

Seriously, that amount of credits was a lot more than a smuggler had any chance of making, especially a smuggler who'd only been at it for around four years. That probably should have been a red flag right there.

But honestly, the job had seemed strictly on the level, a routine run through the Verix sector and a stopover on the planet of Taeceri and the money was as good as his. How was he supposed to know that the 'cargo' was a bunch of illegal weaponry and, to really seal the death sentence on whoever was caught with it, a crate of prillion?

And, halfway through the trip, things started to go downhill.

Mostly it was just some small malfunctions, nothing that even required him to find a planet to buy parts on, but when his radar started flashing, let him know that no less than _seven _fighters were closing in, he knew that something was definitely up. So, he'd prepared to hail Jorvi's cargo ship (an older E0-ZAS model that he was amazed still passed system checks) in order to tell him that they needed to tel-ass out of there, when _he _was hailed by one of the approaching fighters.

Hauk had prepared to play it cool, but that all went out the proverbial window when he heard:

"_Captain Jorvi Lyshon of __**The Grezla**__, this is Commander Fyzon of Unit 5 of the Derlexan Military. You are under arrest for smuggling weapons into Derlexan airspace, with an additional charge of illegally transporting prillion. Surrender now and prepare to be boarded._"

His first response had been something along with lines of 'what the fuck?', but a swift check of the old cargo ship's registration had revealed that _he _had been listed as the pilot of _The Grezla_, and it had hit him with the force of a transport: the damned Partini had changed the registration in case something like, oh say, a unit of fighters surrounding them and demanding that they deactivate all weapons and surrender happened.

And he could see why; the Derlexan's had a strict policy of executing any smugglers found in their airspace or around any of their colonies, and while they weren't a warring race by any means, they had some pretty badass gunners in their military. Unfortunately, most of the time they didn't bother to check if they were executing the right guy or not, which was very bad luck for him.

After that, things pretty much went to hell in a hand-basket as the _real _Jorvi panicked and the ancient cargo ship's aged ion cannons opened fire on the approaching fighters, which were quick to scatter and evade the blasts…and which brought him to his present situation of having to pull off some rather fancy piloting maneuvers in order to avoid getting blown to smithereens.

Hauk cursed loudly as he jerked his fighter into a hard right barrel roll, almost imagining the sound of the cannon blast as it shot no more than a few feet from his left side, growling as he returned fire and watching as the other fighter exploded into a torrent of silent flames.

The Andarion quickly turned his ship and opened fire on a fighter who was trying to sneak up on him, feeling no small measure of satisfaction as his shot took out the ship's rear engine and stabilizer, causing the Derlexan fighter to go into an uncontrollable spin and almost collide with one of its' allies. He took a moment to quickly check his radar, which told him that there were five ships left to go, and a look at the cargo ship nearby told him why.

_The Grezla_, as opposed to him, wasn't doing so well. There were multiple blasts marks across the hull, and it looked like something important had broken, as there was a steady stream of sparks coming from a crack in the vicinity of the main thruster. The ship's cannons were firing alright; the problem was they weren't even coming close to hitting anything, which could either be because the enemy fighters were flying in seemingly random patterns or whoever was on the guns just sucked that badly. He was betting on the latter.

Hauk was jerked out of his observation of his former employer's situation by a faint shift in the air behind him that signaled a teleport, and he jerked forward against the safety straps in time to avoid getting stabbed in the back of the head. The sudden move caused his fighter to lurch sideways, which sent his attacker slamming against the side of the control panel.

Releasing the straps holding him in his chair for better maneuverability, he stood and turned quickly towards the stowaway, barely managing to move his arm out of the way of another slash from the knife his opponent was wielding in their right hand. He growled loudly, which caused his attacker (clad in a formless brown flight suit and a feature-concealing helmet) to hesitate, which presented just the opening he wanted for a counterattack.

A quick punch to the sternum and open palm strike to the ribs resulted in his assailant being too busy wheezing for breath to attack, and that meant that he had the time to quickly get his ship out of the way of another blast from a Derlexan fighter. Obviously, they didn't care that one of their own was on board with him…which was bad luck for him, since if they had been hesitant to blow up one of their own it meant he would have had a better chance of escaping.

Surprisingly, the intruder on his ship didn't take that long to recover, and they lunged in for another knife strike, this time aimed at his torso.

Twisting sideways so that the intruder's arm went right past him, Hauk reached out and grabbed hold of the limb, and a simple flick of his own wrist resulted in an audible 'crack!' that signaled a broken bone. A muffled hiss came from inside his attacker's helmet, which caused the Andarion to feel a small kernel of respect because his attacker hadn't fallen over screaming in pain.

Out of nowhere, an ion blast just grazed the right side of his fighter, but that was enough to catapult them into a wild spin through space, especially since no one was holding onto the controls.

Hauk grunted as his head slammed into the wall and his hip cracked against the edge of one of the consoles, his hand trapped behind his back as he tried to right himself, only for the ship to turn completely upside-down and send him crashing to the ceiling to hit his head _again_. Thankfully the roll went all the way around so he wasn't stuck on the ceiling, but that meant he was up for another meeting with the floor, though at least this time he was able to grab on to his pilot's chair and somewhat land on his feet.

The Andarion techspert was rather gratified to see that his assailant had had just as tough a time through the spin as he had, only more so since whoever-it-was hadn't grabbed onto anything for the return trip to the floor. As a result, they probably had one hell of a concussion even through the crash helmet, and judging by the way they were holding their broken arm close to their body, the ride hadn't done the injury any favors.

Quickly sliding back into the pilot's chair, Hauk tried to straighten out his fighter, but a flashing warning light told him that the blast had somehow managed to hit one of his stabilizers, which just made things that much harder.

Wrestling with his ship, he managed to stop the uncontrolled spin, and find out that apparently they had been knocked a fair distance away from _The Grezla_. That was fine with him, since he didn't care one way or another if something happened to that bastard Jorvi, but before he could do more than make sure that they weren't about to start rolling again, his ears picked up sounds behind him that told him the intruder had somehow managed to get to their feet and recover their knife.

That was the thing about Andarion hearing, it was so good that they could hear someone coughing from a mile away, and they could also hear _someone picking up a knife right behind them_.

Hauk raised an eyebrow, slightly impressed with his attacker's persistence, as he slowly stood and turned around to face the stowaway, revealing his fangs as he grinned and made a 'bring it' gesture towards his assailant. The taunt worked, and his assailant lunged forward, knife held awkwardly in their left hand, the hand not attached to the broken arm. This time, however, his attacker didn't fall for previous twisting trick that he'd used, somehow managing to change direction mid-lunge and score a hit on the Andarion's upper arm, resulting in a shallow cut that released a thin line of blood.

His eyes narrowed at the injury, Hauk immediately sought to return the favor at least tenfold, slashing with his claws at his attacker as they spun around for another go at him. He struck pay-dirt, his claws slicing through the material of his attacker's flight suit and biting into the flesh inside it.

This time, his assailant released a sharp yell of pain, retreating with five claw wounds in their side, though Hauk noted regretfully that they weren't deep enough to be anything but very painful. Hopefully that was all they would need to be, because if his attacker was distracted by pain, it would be easier for him to move in for the finishing blow. He didn't really need the distraction, seeing as he could easily dart it and pull out the assailant's heart, but he'd rather not have to clean the large amount of resulting blood out of his ship's cockpit…again.

Eyeing his wounded attacker, Hauk decided that enough was enough, and growled loudly as his muscles tensed in anticipation of his next move. His attacker did likewise, and time almost seemed to pause before they both lunged towards each other.

Hauk's greater size and muscle mass proved to be the deciding factor, and he slammed the assailant back against the control panel with no small amount of glee, one clawed hand pressing the intruder's left arm down to take threat of the knife out of the way, and his other hand wrapped around the intruder's throat. The back of his enemy's flight helmet smacked against the wall, and the techspert vindictively hoped that it had hurt like hell.

Before the Andarion could tighten his hold on the intruder's neck, the ship rocked sharply to the side and tossed both combatants to the floor. Warning lights began flashing and Hauk scrambled to his feet, a sinking feeling growing in the pit of his stomach as he struggled to stay upright in the wild rocking and turning of his ship.

Reaching the pilot's chair, he immediately sat down and tried to figure out what the hell had happened. But what he found out wasn't good, because in the rush of the fight with his attacker, the fact that there were five other fighters out there had completely slipped his mind. Unfortunately, _he _hadn't slipped theirs', and apparently one of them had broken away from the attack on the _Grezla_ in order to fire another shot at him.

And damn it all to hell, that shot had connected and taken out another one of his stabilizers!

The Andarion snarled as he struggled to keep his ship under control, partially standing as he tried to keep from going into another uncontrollable spin, since there was a very, very low chance that he would be able to pull out of another one. Pressing several buttons and flipping switches, he was able to bring a maintenance readout up onto the screen, and it felt like he'd swallowed a rock as he saw that not only were both his rear stabilizer's out, but several other important systems had been hit.

One of those systems was the air filter, and that meant that if he didn't do something soon, he was likely going to die from lack of air…To hell with that, he wasn't dying from anything less than a fatal injury, or a heart attack from really incredible sex. As neither of those seemed to be happening anytime soon, no way was it ending there for him!

As Hauk wrestled with the controls, his ship sliding sharply to the side, he didn't see the wormhole until it was far too late and he was slammed back down into the pilot's chair by the g-forces propelling the fighter.

The thing about wormholes was that they catapulted you out of whatever system you happened to be in when you went into them, whether you want them to or not. Also, when you used a wormhole shortcut (as his friend Caillen "Dagan" de Orczy used to before he got married), the best part was that it was impossible for anyone chasing to track where you'd come out, something to do with too much distortion.

All Hauk really cared about at the moment was that the wormhole was taking him far away from that damn Partini bastard Jorvi, not to mention the Derlexan fighters. Of course, he also cared that, judging from the new warning light that just came on, his landing gear had been blown off the minute the ship had slid into the wormhole…which meant that he was royally screwed if he had to make an emergency landing.

The fighter emerged from the wormhole several moments later, and the Andarion was able to breathe a little easier now that the crushing g-forces had been left behind in the cosmic shortcut. He didn't have time to be relieved though, since the wormhole had hurled them out right towards a planet, and if he didn't do something soon, the planet's gravity would pull the ship in and he would have to kiss his ass goodbye unless a miracle happened.

As the gods didn't like him most days, he chose option number one and began doing all he freaking could to change course and somehow steer the badly damaged ship away from the looming planet. He used every damn trick he'd ever learned, both from piloting instructors and from flying with certifiable nutcases like Caillen and Syn. None of them did a damn thing aside from tilt the ship slightly upward to that the back of the ship would take the most damage.

When that failed, he went with option C, which was to grab his emergency bag (never get in a ship without it!) from under the console and download as much information on the planet he was approaching as possible into his portable computer before stowing that in his pack. Strapping himself into the pilot's chair, he didn't even spare a thought to the injured second person in the fighter as he braced himself for impact with the planet's atmosphere.

His last coherent thought was something along the lines of, '_Fain is going to kick my ass for this…_'

**Author's Note: Hey guys! This is my first attempt at writing a League series (owned by the awesome Sherrilyn Kenyon) fic, so please keep that in mind while sending me your reviews! Apologies if I got some of the terminology wrong! :P Please read and review! As always, constructive criticism is welcome!**

**What gender do you think the person Dancer was fighting with was, a man or a woman? A virtual cookie to whoever guess right!**


	2. Chapter 2

All things considered, the crash could have been a lot worse, Dancer thought distantly as he slowly regained consciousness with a low groan, a sharp pain in his head letting him know that the hits he had taken in space and the effects of the crash had teamed up to give him a splitting headache the likes of which even Nero Scalera had never felt before.

Honestly, the fact that he _actually _waking up was nothing short of a miracle itself, even if it felt like a _torna_ stampede was running through his head.

The Andarion blinked to clear his vision, not really registering what he was seeing, before he abruptly became very, very grateful that the safety straps had done their job and most likely saved his life, if the mass of jagged metal that had used to be the controls in front of him was any indication. If he hadn't been strapped in, he would have been flung forward by the impact of ship against the ground and impaled on the protruding bits of metal.

He shuddered at the thought, making sharp bolts of pain radiate from his ribs, causing him to hiss and come to the conclusion that the force of the ship's impact had been so strong that the safety straps had probably bruised or even cracked several of his ribs in the process of saving his life. He also became aware that his right leg was most definitely broken, if the bits of bone showing through his skin were any indication, revealed when he happened to look down to try and see if he was pinned to the pilot's chair by anything, and there was a large cut on his arm in addition to several smaller ones scattered over his body.

His back hurt something terrible, another something left over from the crash-landing, and he had no doubt that his entire back was one giant bruise atop many smaller bruises. He also felt something wet sliding down the side of his face, the sharp coppery smell in the air told him in no uncertain terms that it was probably blood.

The techspert groaned under his breath as he began the arduous process of undoing the straps binding him to the chair, his clawed fingers fumbling with the releases as his vision wavered in and out of focus. Finally, he managed to get himself unbuckled and considered it a stroke of luck that the strap releases had still worked after such a rough landing. He grunted as he placed both hands firmly on the armrests of the pilot's chair and shoved himself to his feet, swaying as he struggled to keep from putting any weight on his broken leg and to prevent himself from falling onto the makeshift wall of spikes in front of him.

Dancer was actually surprised that his ship was still in more-or-less one piece as he used the chair as an impromptu crutch to turn around…only to gape as he saw what was behind what _used _to be the cockpit.

Scratch that bit about his ship being in one piece…

Judging from the very nice view he had of the long trench that his ship had formed in the planet's ground and the thick trees beyond that, his ship had broken practically in half at some point, and the fact that he had still survived the impact almost made him believe in a higher power, because that was a fucking miracle.

Well, at least he didn't have to worry about the door being jammed, Hauk thought dryly as he began looking around for his survival pack, hoping that his luck would hold out and it would have survived the crash too.

He finally found it beneath the crushed remains of what had been his ship's weapons systems (cursing when he also saw the mangled remains of the homing beacon), and it took some work to pry it loose, especially with one broken leg and bruised-probably-cracked ribs. Still, he eventually managed to get it loose without tearing it, and now he could only hope that its' contents were at least partially intact.

However, before he could get comfortable and look through his backpack, he had to find some way of getting from the torn edge of the back of the cockpit down to the ground without injuring himself further or blacking out from the sheer pain his leg was about to cause him. Somehow, he didn't think what he was going to do next was going to turn out well…

Taking a deep breath, Dancer limped slowly – _really _slowly – to the slightly raised, torn metal ledge that was the result of his ship being torn apart. A hiss escaped him as he was forced to put more weight on his broken leg in order to peer over the edge to make sure that there were no nasty surprises waiting on the ground for him.

Seeing nothing, aside from the smooth bottom of the trench his ship had made when it had crashed, he clenched his teeth and jumped the four feet down to the ground…And promptly had to bite back the urge to scream as both his legs crumpled beneath him and he went face down into the dirt.

The Andarion laid there as he tried to get his breath back, and he hoped like hell that the first aid equipment he had stashed in his backpack wasn't damaged. He spat out a mouthful of dirt, growling as he pushed himself up onto his knees in order to look around, quickly spotting his backpack lying next to where he had fallen. A quick glance to each side of him revealed that the sides of the trench were higher than he had thought, and while he could have climbed over them easily if he'd been in one piece and not just coming out of a wrecked spaceship, his injuries from the rough landing he'd gone through made that pretty much impossible unless he wanted to risk screwing himself up even more.

Which meant he would be taking the long way out of the crater, he thought with a sigh as, with a monumental effort, he managed to stand even though he swayed alarmingly. Gripping the strap of his backpack tightly, he looked towards the back of the impact trench and set his jaw against the pain beating at him as he started towards it, wanting to get out of the open so he could treat his wounds as quickly as possible.

It was slow going, as he was favoring his right leg and fighting the pain of his multiple injuries with every step, but he eventually managed to crawl out of the crater without causing any further harm to himself, which was a definite relief.

Squinting at the bright light filtering between the trees on either side of the start of the impact trench his ship had made, he noted that it was daytime, trying to distract himself from the pain that was becoming increasingly hard to bear even if it meant stating the obvious to himself. He took a moment to catch his breath and take a more in-depth look at his surroundings, as he hadn't been able to see much of what the part of the planet's surface that he'd landed on looked like from inside the remains of his ship's cockpit and then from inside the crater made by said cockpit's crash landing.

The first thing he noticed was that he was surrounded by lush, thick foliage and towering trees. Everywhere he looked his eyes were assaulted by the color green, though they were all varying shades of it, with small spots of color caused by the flowers and tiny blooms that grew on the aforementioned trees and on some of the bushes that surrounded the crash site.

However, what really concerned the Andarion was the second thing he noticed, which was the temperature. It was, to put it bluntly, _sweltering_, and he honestly thought that the humidity might start boiling him if it got any worse. He knew it probably wasn't quite _that_ hot yet, but it sure felt that way, and he desperately wanted to find some place safe and cool where he could treat his injuries and not run the risk of passing out due to overheating.

Growling under his breath, Hauk picked a likely direction and started moving i.e. limping that way, since his instincts and common sense were telling him that staying in one place on an unfamiliar planet, especially near the crash site, was just asking for trouble…which he definitely didn't need any more of thank you very much.

Since he had no idea what the dangers on this particular world were or what its' people were like, the best thing he could do was keep his head down and try not to draw attention to himself.

A shiver went down his spine as it occurred to him that the planet might not even be inhabited, in which case he was royally screwed. No people meant no way for him to contact his brother or the Sentella to let them know where he was so they could come get him, and it also meant there was no other way for him to get off the planet and head back to his home. And _that _meant that he was likely going to be stranded on this boiling hot planet for the rest of his gods' forsaken life.

Dancer found himself hoping that the planet was inhabited, if only for the slim chance that the species that populated it would have the technology needed for interplanetary travel, even if the species turned out to be vicious carnivores with a taste for Andarion meat…well, maybe not that last part, he mentally amended as he continued limping through the thick foliage, occasionally using his free hand to shove away particularly troublesome vines and branches. With his luck, if he thought about it then that might actually turn out to be the case.

The techspert didn't know how long he spent forcing his way through the foliage that appeared to cover the planet, but he did know that it had started getting cooler around what he guessed to be ten to fifteen minutes ago and what little light had managed to reach through the thick canopy of trees overhead had started to dim. He took that to mean that it would soon be nighttime, and he stepped up his efforts to find a place where he could treat his injuries, because he knew leaving his leg like it was any longer than it had been was a very, _very _bad idea.

Hauk breathed out through his nose, using his injured hand to brush his sweat-soaked hair out of his face as he continued limping through the jungle, his night vision allowing him to avoid the hidden hazards such as holes and roots along the ground.

And just as true night fell on the strange planet he had crashed on, he found the solution to one of his many problems: a cave, partially hidden by hanging vines, large enough for him to stretch out and sit comfortably.

_Edited for spelling mistakes._


End file.
